Freedman put out his hand and Naylor took it.
“Sir, I need the embassy’s communications facilities to send a Top Secret Message to Washington.”
Freedman considered that, nodded, and said, “Well, we can take care of that for you, Colonel. But just to dot all the ‘i’s… may I see your ID and your orders?”
Naylor handed him his identity card. Freedman examined it, handed it back, and then asked, “And your orders, Colonel?”
“I’m acting VOCICCENCOM, sir,” Naylor said.
That was the acronym—pronounced “Voe-Sik-Sen-Com”—for Verbal Order, Commander in Chief, Central Command. While it was in common usage around Central Command, and the Pentagon, the Office of the Defense Attaché in Buenos Aires is pretty near the foot of the military hierarchal totem pole and it was obvious from the look on Colonel Freedman’s face that he had no idea what it meant.
And equally obvious that he wasn’t going to admit that he didn’t to an Army lieutenant colonel.
“Yes, of course you are. But in the absence of written orders, Colonel, how can I know that?”
“Sir, may I suggest you call CICCENCOM at Combined Base MacDill for verification?”
CICCENCOM, pronounced Sik-Sen-Com, is the acronym for Commander in Chief, Central Command.
“Right,” Colonel Freedman said. “Sergeant, call what he said.”
“The extension is six-six-one,” Naylor said.
“Yes, sir.”
Two minutes later the sergeant reported, “Sir, they say the Sik-Sen-Sen… Sik-Sen-Com… is not available.”
“Try extension seven-seven-one, Sergeant,” Naylor suggested. “That’s the DEPCICCENCOM.”
DEPCICCENCOM, pronounced Dep-Sik-Sen-Com, is the acronym for Deputy Commander in Chief, Central Command.
Two minutes later, the sergeant reported, “I have General Albert McFadden on the line, sir. He wants to know who’s calling and how you got his personal number.”
Colonel Freedman’s face, as he reached for the telephone, which the sergeant was passing through an opening in the bulletproof glass, showed that he knew very well who the four-star Air Force general he was about to talk to was.
“Sir, this is Colonel Anthony Freedman, the Defense attaché…
“I was given this number by Lieutenant Colonel Naylor, who says you can verify he’s here acting… What the hell was it, Naylor?”
“VOCICCENCOM, sir.”
“Vok-Ick… Vodka-Ick…
“Yes, sir, General, Voe-Sik-Sen-Com. That’s it, sir.
“No, sir. Now that I think about it, I can’t imagine why a fine officer like Colonel Naylor would say something like that if it wasn’t the case.”
Colonel Freedman held out the phone to Naylor.
“The general wants to talk to you, Colonel.”
Naylor took the phone.
“Good afternoon, sir.
“Not a problem, sir. I spoke to the sheriff and the district attorney and they both assured me no one will be arrested just so long as we use chips and there’s no cash on the tables.
“Sir, I can only suggest the chaplain got carried away when he said we’re all going to go to jail.